Terrible Peace
It is 6 in the morning and very dark--far enough from sunrise in this shorter day of early fall that the setting moon casts long shafts of blue light toward the car as I pull in to the driveway. Ann has left for work already, making the loneliness complete, but for the dog. His face appears at the window as I walk toward the empty house, and his wagging tail is some consolation. One more send-off; one more goodbye. By now, Nathan's flight should have left from Roanoke, bound for Detroit, the boy for Vancouver sometime tonight--his home for at least two more years. I won't even try to explain how quiet this place is now. Those of you who have kids that have left the nest, and returned, and left again, can hear it.
Comments
...happened to us, too. We filled the place with pets. Instead of human sounds, we hear a bunch of meows and animal sounds, now.
Posted by: Terry | August 31, 2004 12:35 PM
Yeah, Fred, I hear it loud and clear.
Posted by: Tom Montag | August 31, 2004 12:42 PM
I always sensed that the house somehow felt different when they had gone or even if one of the boys was just away for a while. I felt this particularly in the morning when first up.
Shalom,
Jan
Posted by: jan | August 31, 2004 7:07 PM